


The Moon Tonight is Beautiful, Isn't It?

by ran_kuro



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Copious amounts of alcohol - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts, drink responsibly kids, this is probably ooc but i can't bring myself to feel bad about it, using my faves as a stand-ins for my bad music tastes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 13:56:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16599170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ran_kuro/pseuds/ran_kuro
Summary: A night of dancing is always better with a partner. A private dinner date fueled by self-indulgence, liquor, and the very best classic rock's gay icons have to offer. There's no need to feel cold when you have someone to share the night with.





	The Moon Tonight is Beautiful, Isn't It?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with a playlist of Yusuf Islam, Elton John, and David Bowie, so I'd definitely recommend reading along with your choice of 70-80s slow jams. The more saccharine, the better.

The falling snow had only started an hour ago, but Ranmaru couldn’t help but mourn his uncovered hair as he trudged along the sidewalk. He had been on his way home after his afternoon interview when a text popped up on his phone. The silver-haired man had left quickly, certainly not rushing as he made his way to the nearest shop. He gathered up ingredients for dinner, stocking his basket with some wine and that weird butterscotch schnapps Reiji loved, pinning a glare at the lanky, teenaged cashier who giggled at the trojans in his purchases. Hiding his face in his collar from the bitter wind, he flagged down a cab for home. On the way back, he doubled-checked for any new messages from his brunet. Camus and Ai supposedly had plans elsewhere, leaving the eldest members of Quartet Night some privacy for the night. Ranmaru smirked to himself before pocketing his phone, stepping out of the cab as it pulled in front of the apartment complex. Juggling with his keys at the main door, the silver-haired man stumbled into the genkan, grocery bags clattering in his hands. 

 

“Oi, Reiji! Come help me with these bags!” He called out into the living room as he took off his gloves and parka, crouching to unlace his heavy boots. There was a quick shuffle of slippers on the hardwood flooring before a mop of chestnut hair bounced into the genkan. 

 

“Welcome back, Ranran!” Reiji scooped half of the bags off the floor, kissing his partner on the forehead as he stood up straight, grinning at the blush that flooded the silver-haired man’s face before carrying his share of the groceries into the kitchen. Toeing into his house slippers, Ranmaru followed after the shorter man. Packing the groceries away and setting aside the ingredients needed, the two of them settled into a comfortable silence. Helping one another with their aprons, they shared an embrace, letting their stress flow out as they relaxed into each other’s arms. They both leaned into one another, lips joining with small huffs of breath as hands clutched for shirts and locks of silky hair. Breaking apart for air, they slowly untangled themselves, with Reiji gently pulling down his partner to whisper into the shell of his ear. 

 

“Maybe we can do something more later, if you’re good.” He let his hands slide off the taller man with a cheeky wink, turning towards the cutting board in front of him as they both tried to calm the redness in their faces. 

 

The kitchen was filled with the soft chopping of vegetables and the simmering of oil as the gentle notes of a record Reiji had put on earlier floated into their cozy space. They worked well together like this. Nothing needed to be said when they shared such a small space, weaving around one another between the counters. There was an occasional playful bump of a hip into another or quiet snickers of undiscussed inside jokes, and a soft wipe to each other’s eyes when the sting of onion overpowered them. Before the meals were plated, the shared a taste from a wooden spoon, sharing a content nod at their job well done. 

 

Setting their plates on the glass-top table, Ranmaru watched as his partner moved to the record player, taking off the vinyl and shuffling through the elaborate collection the four of them had amassed. The silver-haired man took his time opening and pouring the bottle of chardonnay he bought, keeping an eye on the brunet as he peeked into his shelf of records, pulling out one Ranmaru couldn’t make out. He cradled it for a moment, shifting on his feet, before removing its sleeve and carefully placing it on the player. He drifted back to the table as the first notes of the piano flowed from the player and the soft tenor of the singer wrapped around them both like silk. 

 

“Elton John,” Ranmaru raised a thin eyebrow, peering over the rim of his glass at Reiji. The brunet smiled back, swirling his own glass with soft eyes. 

 

“It just felt right, wouldn’t you say, Ranran?” His partner hummed in agreement, sipping the chardonnay before digging into his torikatsu. The atmosphere was mellow, punctuated with the savoury scent of curry and their laughter. They spoke of anything that came to their minds, drawn into comfortable dialogue in the amicable warmth they made for themselves. Reiji nearly choked on his drink as he struggled to tell the silver-haired man about his work with Otoya and Tokiya that morning—the job saw them on the set of a prank show, supposedly, and his kouhais’ reactions to being frightened had been enough to bring him to peels of laughter and tears. Ranmaru, meanwhile, grumbled lightheartedly about his gig with Cecil before he arrived. Their interviewer had been intense, trying her best to pry into every aspect of their private lives, but Cecil threw her off the rails with his innocently boyish disposition at every step. 

 

When their plates were mostly cleared Reiji leaned into the table, taking Ranmaru’s free hand into his own. His partner gave his smaller hand a squeeze, knitting their fingers together and letting them both fall together onto the surface. The brunet looked into his eyes, cheeks beginning to flush from the alcohol. 

 

“This may have to be the  _ cheesiest  _ thing we’ve done,” Laughter bled into his voice, “but I don’t think I’d trade it for the world.” Ranmaru’s lips curled into an equally tipsy grin.

 

“For sure, bento boy.” He let his thumb massage the brunet’s knuckle. “We should wash up before we’re both too fucking drunk to make it to the kitchen.” He joked, snorting at the playful pout that pinched his partner’s red face. 

 

“Oh dear! You’re terrible at romance, Ranran,” He cried playfully, giving an exaggerated huff, but let the taller man round the table and help him to his feet. The two of them shambled into the kitchen, balancing their dishes and glasses, sneaking sips as the wine threatened to spill from their clumsy hands. They took their time with the washing up, becoming much more acquainted with their drinks and one another. Soapy hands explored the bottle and satin locks of hair alike, until their lips and liquor tasted of dish liquid. The water had grown tepid by the the time they finished up, and their glasses filled several times. 

 

They fell back into the living room, wine and liqueur cradled in their arms, while their free hands clutched for one another in their merry drunkenness. Placing their spoils on the coffee table haphazardly, a change in tempo from the record player grabbed Reiji’s attention. He looked up his partner with a glint in his eyes.

 

“I love this song, Ranran! Let’s dance!” Before the silver-haired man could answer, he was dragged towards the bay window, letting out a shout as he tried to keep the wine in his glass from spilling all over the carpet.

 

“Oi, Reiji! Slow the fuck down!” He stumbled after the shorter man, who spun to meet his eyes, his own drink splashing. A warm hand suddenly wrapped around his waist, his own mirroring the movement on his shorter partner. The song was just as upbeat as the brunet in his arms, who was determined to twirl the taller man until he was sick all over the hardwood. Trying to steady himself, Ranmaru rested his head in the shorter man’s hair, letting the scent of his cedar shampoo soothe him, mixed in with the smell of their liquor and lavender dish soap. Reiji laughed into his neck, planting chaste kisses across heated skin as the jaunty piano and bass danced through the air like sparks. They stopped giving a damn about the wine reaching the carpet and flooring, absorbed in a world of their own. 

 

When the song finally faded, Ranmaru placed a kiss to the crown of his brunet’s head, pulling away slowly. Reiji pouted but didn’t argue, taking a sip of his drink (what was left that hadn’t spilled to the floor) as his equally inebriated partner lumbered over to the player, squatting to peer into his personal shelf. He held his glass above his head carelessly to keep the liquor away from the priceless vinyl as he he shuffled through them all, finally deciding on a spotless black record. Wordlessly, he placed it on the player, putting all of his focus into replacing Reiji’s record, laying it carefully into the brunet’s cubby. Dropping the needle, he turned back to his partner, pulling him close before grasping his shoulder. 

 

A gentle crooning voice split into a quartet as Reiji’s hand reclaimed its spot at the small of Ranmaru’s back. The soft piano melded into the vocals as the two of them drifted in the moonlight, flowing over their shoulders and stretching into the room from the wide panes of glass. Their bodies matched the movements of the snowflakes, drifting to meet the dusted streets, shining in the light of the cityscape behind them. The silver-haired man leaned down, letting their foreheads bump lightly as they breathed for one another, heat flooding their faces.

 

“I guess I was wrong,” Reiji whispered against his partner’s lips, “There’s a Romeo in you after all.” Ranmaru opened his eyes, mismatched magenta and silver meeting smoking greys, a heady intensity mixed in their dusty hues. “A side only I get to see,” the brunet mused, “I’m a very lucky man.” He punctuated his words with a passionate push to the warm lips in front of him. The large hand on his shoulder tightened its grip wantonly, pulling him closer. The brunet felt sharp teeth graze his lower lip, meeting them with his tongue. The sweetness of the chardonnay on their lips was more intoxicating than its alcohol content could ever achieve on its own, their pulses electric beneath their searing skin. Reiji’s hands grasped tightly at his taller partner as a warm hand followed his rapid heartbeat, drifting upward to the tangle in his chestnut hair. The shorter man pushed further into the man melting into them, pressing their heated bodies into the chilled glass behind them. The silver haired man’s startled noise was captured by greedy lips, melting into something needy as a slender thigh wormed in between his own to rest against the window. 

 

They reluctantly parted for air, pressed together tightly as they panted onto each other’s flushed skin. Their eyes met with an intensity that spoke with an honesty their words never could, as their hearts and lungs struggled to recover. Ranmaru let his head droop onto the shorter man’s shoulder, hiding his burning face in the familiar touch of cedarwood at the base of his partner’s neck. He felt the solid chest beneath him rumble with a chuckle.

 

“The moon tonight is beautiful, isn’t it?” The brunet’s head was craned not to the sky in front of them, but to the taller man wrapped in his arms, his wild head of silver illuminated by the sky. Ranmaru pulled back, letting their eyes meet as they shared each other’s oxygen.

 

“It really is…” The night sky reflected perfectly in those grey eyes. The silver haired man found himself lost, mapping constellations in those mercury eyes that faded into a soft charcoal along their edges. His stargazing was interrupted by a curious hand winding its way under his button up, fingers teasing up his spine. 

 

“I think we might have a better view somewhere else though, don’t you think?” Reiji laid his glass down on the side table, what was left of his wine mingling with the expensive rug beneath their feet. He gently took the other glass from his partner’s hand, placing it down before smiling softly up at him. The brunet cradled Ranmaru’s cheek in his palm, letting his hand drift down to his chest. He grasped at the silk tie loosely hanging from the taller man’s neck, playfully twisting the fabric between his fingers. The silver haired man sighed softly at the contact, letting himself be guided to the brunet’s bedroom and pushed lightly onto decadent bedding. Clambering on top of him, Reiji’s drunken smile was like pure sugar as he settled with a thigh on either side of his partner. Ranmaru let himself sink into the fabric beneath him as he pulled the brunet close, both of them eager for one another. 

 

The cold of the falling snow was far from them, wrapped in the warmth of their drunken bodies. Time slowed to a crawl, and the world felt pleasantly heavy. All that existed for them both was found beneath the sheets, their personal starry sky found in each other’s wanton eyes. The night was found in shades of silver and pink and between them both. The moon was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a nod to Natsume Soseki, who coined the phrase "Tsuki ga kirei desu ne?", a poetic metaphor meant to replace "I love you". 
> 
> Reiji put on Elton John's self-titled album and had them dance to "The Cage" while Ranmaru put on Queen's "A Day at the Races", with the two of them dancing to "You Take My Breath Away". Reiji is an old soul who was probably raised on his parents' pop rock and Queen is a band near and dear to me, so I felt justified in putting two of my favourite acts of the era in here. 
> 
> As always, this hasn't been beta'd so I apologize for any errors. It's late but I wanted to post this while I was still enjoying the post-writing giddiness.


End file.
